The

The Take a deep breath.

This moment is yours.

This is naked on Kashmir. This moment is yours.

This is naked on Kashmir. We lost ourselves. Eyes shut in a kiss.

Our lips, the thread that held us to the earth like a balloon

while we floated in the cosmic cotton of space toes dipping in the pools of black, cooling our bodies, until we awoke in wet wool, in the rain of

Rio, the mists of morning, soaking in a park so cold but warm with you, and only the rain,

to remind us we were there at all. I'm I'm I'm

I'm

I'm The Well, hey there, and welcome to Sunday.

I'm so glad you could join me today.

The poem I just read is called Lost, and I feel like it represents this week's theme well.

This week is about falling, a feeling of losing yourself completely into another person.

I feel like so much of my writing is inspired by this exact feeling.

It's the one that sticks with us even when

it's long gone. It's a common sentiment that we never forget our first love. A large reason for this

is that our first love is often the first time we fell, the first time we found ourselves immersed

in another person and were forever changed by

that feeling of falling. There's an old adage I love. Nobody is perfect until you fall in love

with them. There's something true about that, the blindness of love.

It can also be scary because sometimes it comes at the expense of ourselves.

...